Chapter 11 - 11: Ashes of Kingdoms, Winds of Vengeance

England Era 320

🏴 The Collapse of Maryam and Pars

The smoke rose high into the heavens.

By the time Arslan had prepared to head toward Maryam, word came—devastating and swift:

Both Maryam and Pars had fallen.

Pars, his birthright. Maryam, a once-holy sanctuary of divine teachings. Reduced to burning embers by the Lusitanian army and their new shadow commander—Hilmes, the masked heir of Pars and Arslan's own blood cousin.

Even with all his divine power, Arslan could not be everywhere at once.

For the first time in years, he felt the weight of the world pressing down again.

🌲 The Meeting in the Forest of Requiem

As the wind grew still, and his army set up camp beneath a forest of whispering willows, a figure emerged from the mists.

Tall. Cloaked. Tired—but burning with resolve.

"My name is Narsus," he said. "Once strategist to the royal court. The masked man has taken everything from me—my title, my people… and Elam, the boy who once called me family.

I offer you my mind, my blade, and my vengeance."

From the shadows came another.

"And I am Daryun, former general of the Parsian knights. My uncle, Vahriz, died defending your father. But Andragoras fell… betrayed by Kharlan, our own. Your mother Tahamenay also died by masked man.

My spear belongs to you now, Prince Arslan."

Then came a third, strumming a lute lazily.

"I'm Gieve, wandering bard, skilled with words and women." He smirked. "I came here for one thing—and she's standing right there."

A woman in midnight-silver robes stepped forward. Her eyes were cold as steel.

"My name is Farangis Mithral. Last of the Mithral Flame. The Lusitanians burned my temple, slaughtered my clan. I do not fight for kings or gods—I fight for justice."

Arslan nodded slowly.

"You mean to tell me… the capital of Ecbatana is falling?

My cousin dares march upon the kingdom I was born into?"

He stood tall, wind coiling around him like a storm ready to break.

"Then let this be the final war."

⚔️ The Final War Begins – The Six-Month Siege

What followed was the bloodiest war of the new age.

The Six-Month Siege of Ecbatana, where divine wind clashed against cursed fire.

Farangis stood tall on the battlefield, striking down dozens of Lusitanian fanatics each day with her spirit-blessed bow.

Daryun broke through enemy cavalry lines, earning the name Black Storm Fang.

Narsus outmaneuvered the enemy's supply lines and fed starving villages, winning the people to Arslan's cause.

Arslan, now known as the Liberator King, summoned Dragonstorm Tempest and unleashed Cosmic Tornado—tearing apart an entire Lusitanian fortress from the sky.

But even in war, personal tension brewed…

💔 Gieve's Fall

Gieve, true to his nature, pursued Farangis even amid bloodshed. He sang her poems, brought her gifts, and even saved her life once from an arrow in battle. But Farangis never wavered.

"You're a liar," she told him. "A charming one. But unworthy. I follow a king with the strength to carry the world—not a boy chasing skirts."

Consumed by rejection and pride, Gieve tried to confront Arslan one night—whispers of betrayal in his tone.

Before he could act, Erza stepped out of the darkness and drove her sword through his chest.

"You tried to put your hands where they didn't belong," she said coldly. "You touched what belongs to the Wind King.

Your death was too kind."

Arslan said nothing—but turned away, wind swirling behind him like a silent judgment.

🌟 A New Bond: Farangis and Arslan

Farangis began to see more than just a boy with power. She saw the soul beneath.

A king who mourned his fallen people.

A leader who risked everything to give the world hope.

A young man who, despite divine strength, still felt the pain of loss.

She stood at his side after the final battle and whispered:

"You saved what was left of my heart. I follow no gods now—only you."

👑 Victory: The Birth of a Legend

As the Lusitanian forces scattered, the skies cleared. The people of Maryam and Pars knelt. A new anthem spread across the continent:

"Hail Arslan—the Wind King, the Dragon of Liberation, the Breaker of Chains."

But in the ashes of the fallen kingdoms, far away, Hilmes vanished without a trace.

And with him, the next stage of the prophecy began